


Killing Two Birds with One Bullet

by pumpkinscript



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blood, Dubious Consent, Emotional, Jim Moriarty - Freeform, John Watson - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Murder, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, This is really dark okay guys?, like really really dark, majour character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20084077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinscript/pseuds/pumpkinscript
Summary: Sherlock just stood there, then his stomach dropped."I mean, what would it take to just... shoot him— right here?""Don't you dare, Moriarty, I—"Moriarty started fondling the fun in his hands, making a show of it. Sherlock started to panic, realizing the one thing Moriarty was after all along— him.





	Killing Two Birds with One Bullet

"Sherlock," the singsong voice wafted along the railing in the underground swimming room. The iridescent blue light bounced gracefully off the waves in the pool and decorated the whitewashed brick ceiling, making Sherlock dizzy as he looked around, desperate to find his best friend and colleague, John Watson. 

"Sherlock," the voice rang out again. 

"Where is John?" Sherlock yelled frantically. "Where is he?! Answer me!!"

Sherlock stood next to the pool, sweat sunning down his sculpted jawline and wetting his scarf wrapped around his neck. Then, he heard a door open behind him. As he turned, he saw a man in a big snow jacket and pants. 

"John!"

John Watsoni slowly opened the jacket, revealing the mass of suicide bombs sewn into the lightweight fabric. 

"'Bet you never saw this coming,'" John said slowly. 

"John—" Sherlock started. "Wh—?"

"'What... would you like me... to make him say... next,'" John's voice shook.

Sherlock suddenly spotted the earpiece in John's ear.

"'Gottle o' gear, gottle o' gear, gottle o' gear....'"

"Stop it!!" Sherlock yelled, infuriated and terrified. 

"'Nice touch this: the pool where little Carl died.'" John cringes. "'I stopped him. I can stop—'" John's voice broke, "'I can stop John Watson, too.'"

Sherlock's stomach dropped and his face went white. "Who are you?!" he yelled into the chlorinated air. 

He heard another door open at the end of the room. 

"I gave you my number," a soft Irish voice said plaintively. "I thought you might call."

A sharply-dressed figure stepped out into the dim light of the room at the far side of the swimming room. His dark hair was slicked back and to the side. He was quite young; a quiet insanity about him. Murderous. Then, he dropped the façade and talked again. 

"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?"

Sherlock, composing himself quickly, reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a pistol, aiming it at the man. 

"Both," he said. 

The man stopped and looked back at Sherlock, unafraid. "Jim Moriarty," he introduced himself. "Hi." He tilted his head, acting innocent, as if he had to remind Sherlock where he had saw him last. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?" He began to walk along the side of the pool towards Sherlock and John. Sherlock raised his other hand to support the weight of the pistol. Moriarty bit his lip, disappointed. 

"Did I really make such a fleeting impression?" Moriarty said. "But then again, I suppose that rather was the point."

Something else suddenly caught Sherlock's eye. A glowing red dot hovered over John's body. Sherlock jumped back just a bit, heart racing. 

"Oh don't be silly, Sherlock," Moriarty said. "I'm not the one holding he pistol. Someone else is. I don't like getting my hands dirty... most of the time. Sometimes, you just—" his face contorted itself into a cringe, "can't help it." He grinned and chuckled to himself. "I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse, of what I've got going on out there in the big, bad world. I'm a specialist you see," he looked up at Sherlock with mock surprise, "like you!"

"Consulting criminal," Sherlock said, suddenly intrigued. "Brilliant."

"Isn't it? No one ever gets to me," he said, "and no one ever will."

"I did."

"You've come the closest," Jim said truthfully. "Now you're in my way."

"Thank you."

"I didn't mean it as a compliment."

"Yes, you did."

"Okay, I did." Moriarty shrugged. "But the flirting is over, Sherlock. Daddy's had enough now..."

Sherlock looked at him, confused and unsure of what to think. 

"I have liked this little game of ours, however," Moriarty said. "Playing Jim from I.T. Playing gay. I know that wasn't too hard for you to figure out considering...."

Sherlock pretended he didn't know what Moriarty was talking about. 

"Oh, come off it. Don't play stupid— I know you're gay. You and your little pawn." He gestures to John. 

"I don't know what you mean," Sherlock said, his voice shaking. 

"You're so bad at hiding it, Sherlock. I know all about your secret rendezvous with little Johnny here."

John hung his head and looked directly at Sherlock. 

"What the hell Sherlock?"

"John I swear I never—"

"Ooh," Moriarty said, drawing out the word, and started walking towards the two men again. "You're jealous. I knew it."

Sherlock looked at the man with contempt. 

"Oh, don't worry, Sherlock," Moriarty said. "I'm a bit jealous, too. I mean, who wouldn't love to take the spot of the ever-famous John Watson?"

Sherlock just stood there, then his stomach dropped. 

"I mean, what would it take to just... shoot him— right here?"

"Don't you dare, Moriarty, I—"

Moriarty started fondling the fun in his hands, making a show of it. Sherlock started to panic, realizing the one thing Moriarty was after all along— him. 

"Moriarty don't fucking think you can just—"

"Oh, I can do whatever I want, Sherlock, my dear," he played out the word 'Sherlock' on his tongue and it made John feel sick. 

"No, please, I—"

BAM!

In just a split second, the little bit of light left in Sherlock's eyes disappeared as the sickening sound of a body biting the cement echoed through the tunnel. 

"John," Sherlock stuttered, his eyes welling up with tears while he tripped over his feet, falling down on his knees to try and shake his partner awake. "No. John, wake up. John, stop it, John please—" 

Moriarty's laugh resounded and bounced off the walls. Sherlock looked up at him with murder in his eyes. 

"You." His voice shook with unbearable anger as he looked up at the cheerful man who had just shot his best friend. His face was seething with fury, like he had gone mad. He had, of course, gone mental; John was the only one keeping him sane. 

"Me," Moriarty chuckled. "Now I can't be jealous anymore, Sherlock. Problem solved!"

Sherlock rose from the ground, all sense of feeling left behind. He wasn't happy, nor sad. He wasn't even angry anymore. He was completely numb to the feelings that had just overburdened his mind. 

"John is dead."

"Right on, Sherlock."

"You killed him."

"Yes. I did." 

Moriarty took slow, drawn-out strides towards Sherlock, giddy like a child. "You see, now I don't have to share you with anyone, don't I?"

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it? To kill John and steal me from him?"

"You were very late to figure that bit of information out, Sherlock." Moriarty stopped right in front of Sherlock, eyeing him with his dark brown eyes. 

"Why did you think that would work?"

"Oh, I knew it would. Taking away the top-most thing you loved? I was, in fact, the second-most thing you loved— don't bother denying it, Sherlock."

Sherlock just stood there, emotionless. Tears had dried on his face and he stared blankly back into the dark eyes of his nemesis. Moriarty looked back into the eyes of Sherlock, and twisted a lock of his black hair around his finger. 

"I just needed to become your favourite."

Moriarty's finger tightly tugged on the single lock of hair, pulled Sherlock to him and kissed him harshly and psychotically. Sherlock, having nothing to lose and no emotions to defend his actions, kissed his best friend's murderer back. The two men stood, entwined over John's bloody torso and devoured each other's faces. Moriarty had just wanted something to give him life again, and Sherlock just needed a current distraction to keep him from seeing the pale face of his late partner. 

"You're passionate when you're angry," Moriarty grunted in between kisses. 

"Shut the hell up," Sherlock said, and decided to give up all sense of self-worth and throw Moriarty against the wall of the tunnel. The man soon swing Sherlock around, pushing up against him in the echoey room. He kissed his neck, biting the skin that blanketed Sherlock's vocal chords and trachea and leaving bruises. Moriarty ripped open Sherlock's shirt and kissed his chest, running his hands up and down the cold fabric Sherlock was wearing. Sherlock threw his head back, his curly hair hanging down in curtains as unwanted tears ran down his face. He didn't know why or how he was crying, since he wasn't feeling much of anything anymore. Moriarty noticed the tears and licked the rivers from the base of Sherlock's neck to his cheeks, caressing Sherlock's lips with his tongue then kissing him again. 

Sherlock was suddenly overwhelmed by intense anger and a plan was formulated in his mind. As he kissed Moriarty, he held the back of his neatly-combed head, pressing the villain's face to his own. Slowly and silently, he reached down in his pocket and grabbed the pistol out. Hand still on the back of Moriarty's head, he pulled his lips off him quickly and stuck the gun in Moriarty's mouth, causing him to chuckle. 

"Got bored, didn't we?" Moriarty said slurredly. 

"No, only angry."

Moriarty's tongue swept around the bottom and top of the gun seductively, and Sherlock just pressed it harder into his mouth. Sherlock leaned in close to Moriarty's ear and said,

"I really did like you." He bit his earlobe, hard, and then the second shot of the night rang out and bounced off the walls as Sherlock left the two mangled bodies laying at the bottom of the pool in the tunnel.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find my works on my Wattpad page @pumpkinscript


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